


Thought

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Aragorn survives a long conference by eyeing Legolas.





	Thought

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for epoxide’s “29. “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now” Aragorn/legolas” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/160417565360/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

As attractive as King Thranduil’s voice is, it can, like any other voice, only be comfortably listened to for so long. Lord Elrond responds almost in equal measure, Erestor sparingly joining the conversation. The other twenty-two elves and one mortal crammed around the conference table are overwhelmingly silent. Most of them are listening intently, but Aragorn, having heard the entire forecast by Elrond on the journey to the Woodland Realm, finds it increasingly difficult to pay attention. The only thing that’s kept the evening palatable is having a handsome prince at his side.

Legolas, for the most part, looks wholly attentive. Aragorn, however, knows him far better than that. They’re seated side-by-side, so close that their arms touch, their hands resting against one another, and Legolas’ thumb occasionally draws languidly up and down Aragorn’s index finger. Glorfindel, on Aragorn’s other side, is leant too far over the table to notice. They all seem to find this entire thing _fascinating_ , even though it’s gone several hours into the night, and, as far as Aragorn can tell, the subtle, largely inconsequential negotiations are still nowhere near an end. If it weren’t for the distracting aphrodisiac of Legolas’ beauty, he probably would’ve passed out on the table already.

When Legolas lets out a little sigh and reclines back against his wooden seat, no one else seems to notice. Aragorn follows the graceful movement out the corner of his eye. He watches the way Legolas tilts his head, causing silken, white-gold hair to tumble farther down one shoulder, blue eyes dancing in the firelight of the many candles that line the high-ceilinged chamber. His hand shifts against Aragorn’s, gliding over it and caressing each one of Aragorn’s knuckles on the way. It slides onto the edge of Aragorn’s thigh.

Aragorn has half a mind to spread his legs and let this go further, but a quick look around reminds him of just how very unfortunate all of these witnesses would be. Elrond would be the most embarrassing, but Thranduil would be the most detrimental. Surely, if he knew what Aragorn was thinking of his precious son and heir, he would never have allowed Aragorn to attend the conference at all. Although, that might’ve proved a blessing.

Aragorn returns the favour, pressing his hand into Legolas’ outer thigh and giving the soft flesh a supple squeeze. Legolas’ breath hitches, chin tilting up, but he reins himself in quickly and is soon the picture of self-control. Aragorn risks leaning across the tiny space between them to whisper in Legolas’ arched ear, “Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?”

Legolas’ pink lips twitch into a grin. He looks like he wants to laugh but doesn’t dare. It would only draw the meeting out longer in a lengthy explanation for such inappropriate behaviour. Or, more optimistically, it would bring it to an abrupt end, and Aragorn would be freed of his boredom. 

Legolas incrementally nods his head, though he needn’t have answered; Aragorn knew it. Aragorn moves his foot beneath the table to hook around Legolas’ ankle, and Legolas’ hand slides higher up his thigh.

Legolas is the next to lean towards him, parting plush lips to murmur, “Actually—”

“Do you have something to add, Legolas?” Thranduil sharply cuts in, and suddenly the entire group is turned to them. Aragorn sits bolt upright, and Legolas withdraws, going immediately pale. Thranduil’s gaze is piercing, and Elrond lifts a brow at Aragorn.

Before Legolas can try to explain himself, Aragorn coughs and jumps in: “He was merely showing concern for me. Forgive me, my king, my lord, but I believe I may have been awake too long. I am, unfortunately, only a Man, and unlike the fairer folk, I wither without rest.”

Instantly slipping into the role, Legolas put a gentle hand on Aragorn’s shoulder, announcing to him as much as the room, “You do look weary, Estel. Please, allow me to show you back to the guest quarters we have prepared for you.” When Legolas pushes out of his chair, no one says a word to stop him. Aragorn glances back at the two lords, both of which look slightly confused but not overly worried. Aragorn gives them a polite nod and allows Legolas to help lift him from his seat. 

On his feet, he asks, “I do apologize. May I...?”

“Yes, yes,” Thranduil decides, waving a hand. Aragorn knows he needs little excuse to dismiss those from other races, and Elrond, fortunately, says nothing of the exceptional stamina he must know Aragorn has. Aragorn doesn’t dare risk looking at Elrond long enough to prompt anything. 

He makes a show of slumping on his way to the door, while Legolas follows with one arm raised as though to catch him should he fall. When they make it out into the corridor, Aragorn’s glad to see the guards are stationed far back along the hall; it gives him room to let out a little chuckle. Legolas gives him a broad, admiring smile, and Aragorn leans in to peck his cheek. 

As they make their way down the hall, Aragorn purrs, “I do hope you will stay long enough to see how much energy I truly have left.” Just as they pass between the guards, Legolas laughs, and they steal away quickly before anyone else can douse their delight in doldrums.


End file.
